


Armour.

by Senei



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Desperation, Omorashi, Other, Watersports, technically no pairing but Lavellan has feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 02:16:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3101585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Senei/pseuds/Senei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war room is not a bathroom, but apparently Lavellan has decided they can let that slide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Armour.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first Dragon Age fanfic (posted online). Of course it's about Cullen pissing himself. Enjoy? This was a request for a friend that I was happy enough to fulfill.
> 
> Heads up: written on mobile with little editing.

Lavellan thought that Cullen looked more agitated than usual. It was common for him to move around a lot during meetings, his armour clanking softly as he did, but today he shifted from foot to foot and seemed to only deliver clipped remarks. The Inquisitor regarded this with some suspicion, and as the meeting wound down Cullen seemed to grow more still, but more pained. He wondered if their commander had hurt himself in training, or worst, back at Haven and was hiding it so not to cause concern. That couldn't be allowed to continue, Lavellan decided, and stayed behind as the other members of the war counsel filed out. 

Cullen still stood at the table, his hands braced on the edge of it. His eyes were closed, and when Lavellan coughed slightly to bring attention to himself, they snapped open and focused on him. "Inquisitor," he breathed. "Can I help you? The meeting is over-"

"I know," Lavellan cut in. He smiled and threw up his hands. "Not here as the Inquisitor right now, Cullen."

"Ah," Cullen nodded, then winced noticeably. 

"I was just worried. Something seems off today, and I wanted to make sure you were alright," Lavellan continued. He took a few steps closer and meant to walk around the war table so it wasn't between them, but Cullen almost flinched away. He shifted so that his balanced seemed off, a hot flush had risen on his cheeks and the pained look more prominent. 

"I'm fine," Cullen said. His words were strained. "Not to be rude, but I wouldn't mind being left-" 

"Cullen if you're wounded and hiding it- I'd rather know before you turn up dead because you were trying to be noble-"

"It's not that!" Cullen exclaimed. He almost laughed, but seemed to catch himself. He gripped the edge of the table harder. "I'm fine, Lavellan, so if you wouldn't mind..."

Lavellan only frowned harder. He rounded the edge of the table and stopped in front of the ex-Templar, who was almost a head taller than him. Arms crossed over his narrow chest, the elf tried to look imposing. "You don't look fine. I will go get Cole and make him read your mind if I have to, Cullen." 

Cullen smiled nervously. "There's no need for that." 

He shifted again, pulling his legs closer together. He hadn't let go of the table, or even turned to face Lavellan as he approached. His knuckles were almost white he was holding on so hard, but his face was flushed so red he almost looked feverish. Lavellan stepped closer and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Cullen, what's wrong?" 

A grimace flashed across his face. "I think if I tell you I may lose what little dignity I have left." 

Lavellan chuckled. "Oh. Are you ill? I know the troops have been trying that alcohol we found in the vaults, I wouldn't doubt it's- or maybe you ate something?"

"No," Cullen ground his teeth. "That would be less embarrassing than this." 

One of Lavellan's fine brows arched upwards. "Oh?" He asked. "Alright, see, now I'm just curious."

Cullen shifted, as if to turn and face the inquisitor, but something happened and he turned darker red as a pained moan escaped his throat. It was only brief, but loud enough that he'd have no chance in denying it. Lavellan didn't know why, but he felt his own cheeks grow hot. Cullen slowly let go of the table with one hand and raised it to his face, hiding his eyes behind it. 

"I'm sorry I-" he began. He took a deep breath and then continues, "I have been busy all morning and didn't think to use the privy before coming to the war room. That meeting just dragged on..."

Lavellan's eyes widened as he realized what Cullen was saying. For a moment he was pretty sure his head spun as the thought settled. Cullen was full to burst, and must have been for a long time now judging by his discomfort. "Oh," Lavellan said, more a sigh than actual words. Thankfully Cullen didn't seem to notice. 

"It takes long enough to get out of this armour, but at this point I don't think I can even make it to the-" Cullen went on. He was still hiding his face, hands shaking slightly, and thighs pressed together. He was doing his best to hold it together. 

Lavellan looked about nervously. He had to admit that seeing the commander like this was, well, fascinating. He knew that Cullen blushed easily, but seeing him so flustered and so, desperate. It made thoughts he barely wanted to be thinking rattle around in his head, and a twinge of excitement spark in his groin. His cheeks must have been as red as Cullen's at that point, and that was about when he lost his resolve and simply nodded. 

The door to the war room was still open and Lavellan crossed the room to close it. He could feel Cullen's eyes on him as he did, and saw them - though they quickly darted away - when he returned to his side. 

"Why did you..?" Cullen asked. 

Lavellan cleared his throat and rubbed one hand along his opposite arm. Nerves wracked his body, but the past few months had been pretty good in bolstering his courage, so he spoke his mind anyway. "Well, at this point I could try to help you to the privy, or you could..." He trailed off. 

"No!" Cullen exclaimed immediately. "Not with- not here."

Lavellan nodded. "I know, but here is a lot less embarrassing than having an accident in the hall where everyone can-"

Cullen whined - he actually whined - and ground his teeth. He closed his eyes again, hands clenched on the edge of the war table. "Alright, but- Don't watch." 

"I won't," Lavellan replied and politely closed his own eyes. He heard Cullen shift and make some small noises of complaint before he sighed heavily. 

The inquisitor couldn't stop himself, he opened his eyes, and saw Cullen slowly slump forward against the table. His sigh was drawn out and matched with a look of pure relief across his face. There was a rushing sound, and a puddle of urine began to spread at his feet, but he seemed oblivious to the fact. 

Lavellan's cheeks were hot, in fact his entire body was hot, and he could feel how hard he had gotten in his pants. He wanted to look away, to give Cullen privacy, but he couldn't stop himself from looking. The sight of the commander losing himself like this was... Spectacular. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his slack jaw only added to the situation. Lavellan couldn't have looked away, even if he had truly wanted to. 

Eventually, Cullen was simply slumped forward on the table. The look of ecstatic relief was eclipsed by embarrassment and something that might have been the last of his dignity fading away. He opened his eyes, and slowly turned to look at Lavellan, who was flushed scarlet and trying to not look too guilty. 

"You watched?" Cullen asked. His voice sounded hollow, which only added to Lavellan's feelings of guilt. 

The inquisitor simply nodded, thankful for the myriad of things he had hanging from his belt that probably served to hide his shockingly hard erection. He hated to think of the commander that way, knowing his interest lay with the fairer sex, but today - right now - he couldn't stop himself, or his own thoughts. He wanted to strip Cullen of his armour then and there, suck him clean and dry, but instead he took a deep breath. Steadied himself. 

"Do you want to use my quarters to clean off? They're closer than yours are," he said. "I'll deal with-" he gestured at the rather large puddle at Cullen's feet. 

The commander looked down, flushed darker and stepped away from the table. He left wet footprints and Lavellan quickly searched his pockets for a handkerchief, which he tossed to Cullen. It was the least he could do. 

Cullen said nothing as he dried what he could with the scant piece of cloth, hurried to get away, Lavellan was sure. When he straightened up he cast one last look at the elf, nodded, and then left for the door. 

He paused before he disappeared into the hallway. "Thank-you," he said, cheeks still flushed, and then he left. 

Lavellan let his body relax and he found himself panting, leaning against the table. He had been holding his breath, he realized, and as air rushed back into his lungs he let the surrealness of the entire scene leave him. He pressed a hand to his crotch, still hard and eager, and just sighed heavily at his own body. 

He would deal with that later, first he had to figure out how to clean up the puddle left behind on the floor of the war room. He wondered where they kept the mops...


End file.
